Be Still, My Troubled Heart
by yaba
Summary: She feels herself gravitating towards him and briefly wonders when this went from being about her intention to comfort a friend, to contemplating letting Patrick Jane of all people take her out. Post 2.12. Jane/Lisbon.
1. Part I: Good Intentions

**Be Still, My Troubled Heart**

Disclaimer: Don't own anything…quote by British author Douglas Adams.

Rating: T

Spoiler: Bleeding Heart

A/N: This idea has been swirling in my head for months. Very strangely, the most recent episode inspired me to finally write it. So here it is. It was supposed to be a one-shot, but ended up being too long, so I split it into two parts. Oh and for those of you who are wondering, a new chapter of Running Through Red Lights will be up shortly. Sorry for the wait!

Part I: Good Intentions

XXX

"_I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I intended to be."_

XXX

Christ, he looks old.

The camera guy should be charged alongside the journalist simply for zooming in so close to his face.

He's not vain.

Okay, well maybe a little, but there's no harm in wanting to look good. He just hasn't been in front of a camera for almost six years and only now realizes that it's probably a good thing that this documentary will never see the light of day.

He can make out every single line on his face, the creases around his eyes, the ones marring his forehead. It's unsettling, unnerves him, reminds him of his own mortality, and despite his life threatening plans of revenge, unexpected worry tightens his insides, twisting uncomfortably as he fixates on the image of himself.

He remembers that moment vividly, casting his glance down, trying to appear vulnerable, bating the journalist, turning the tables on him to get a confession.

It had all been an act, a ploy, all his talk of love, betrayal, hurt; it had all been a farce.

And yet as he looks at himself, the only thing that comes to mind is honesty.

In his expression, he sees truth, sees candor, knows that the signs of aging on his face expose the extent of his feelings, weakness. All the words he thought he was carefully crafting to trap the reporter, ended up revealing things he's kept inside of him, thoughts and emotions that threaten to spill over the surface if he got too careless.

The realization is ugly, painful. It sinks deep inside of him, and manifests into a vice wrapped around his heart, squeezing it, disarming all his defenses, reminding him that it all happened on camera.

He should really destroy the tape.

He means to press eject, but mistakenly gets the rewind button.

Scowling at the complicated remote, he pauses the tape, ready to take it out, but the freeze frame catches his eye and he can't look away.

This must have been shot shortly after he stormed out following the journalist's stupid question about psychics.

He's not sure what the idiot asked her, but Lisbon's facial expression is priceless.

She looks a little uncomfortable, hands twisted in her lap, a suspicious look in her jade eyes, directly posed at the camera.

It's a typical Lisbon expression, mistrusting, but curious and perhaps a little stilted, but even here he sees the distinct difference between his close up and hers.

Unlike him, she looks positively radiant. Even in her efforts to conceal her discomfort, keep her guard up, there's still an air of openness, vulnerability about her. Instead of it making her look older, jaded, there's a youthfulness in her presence that captivates him. His thumb unconsciously finds the right button to continue the montage.

Jane smiles proudly when she deflects the reporter's inquiries about her private life, smirks at the burst of defiance in her expression. He'd like to think her sharp tongue is a product of his influence, but that would be foolish.

No, his Lisbon developed a streak of rebelliousness long before he met her. She's entirely capable of telling someone off, and he is a little envious that she can do it in such a polite way, that the person is caught completely off guard.

Not that Jane isn't known for the shock factor. However, more often than not people despise him afterwards. With Lisbon, her subverted wrath earns her the respect of those on the receiving end.

And for a man of many talents and a vast pool of knowledge, he has no trouble admitting he can learn a thing or two from the tiny spitfire.

That thought should send fire alarms off in his head, but he's too mesmerized by the television screen, watching as Lisbon continues to dodge question after question. It amuses him to no end, makes him forget about the sad little fact he discovered about himself earlier, but then the dimwitted reporter goes a little too far and Jane feels his disgust with him resurface.

"_So what motivated you to become a cop?" _

It's a cliché inquiry, something picked up from a poorly written crime drama, or any number of bad talk show interviews, but it does the trick.

A flash of something indefinable across her rosy features, then her perfect, pink lips turn into a frown, and her eyes again reveal nothing.

No suspicion, no mirth, no boldness.

Stonewall.

"_We're done here." _

She says and Jane can't agree more, as the scene switches to the interview with Cho. Even though he's certain the agent will amuse him, lighten up his mood, Lisbon's reaction, the momentary hurt brought on by painful memories, evokes recollections of his own, reminding the consultant of demons that still seem to be chasing him, gaining speed at every turn.

Jane reaches over, ready to turn the tape off, but he's not quick enough, because he's suddenly well aware of the slow clicking of heels coming from behind him and he anticipates that it's Lisbon, before she even speaks,

"Hey, burning the midnight oil?"

He turns around, giving himself a moment for composure, before greeting her with a megawatt smile,

"Something like that."

There's a bit of awkward silence between them and he can't imagine why, considering this wouldn't be the first time she's come back to work in the middle of the night, usually because she forgot something, to find him here alone.

Jane figures it's not healthy how inextricably tied they both are to this building, but it's safe, neutral, still makes him feel at ease despite the knowledge that ever since a month ago, even the CBI HQ is not off limits to the man determined to make his life a living hell.

Lisbon distracts him from his thoughts by walking closer to the conference table, then quirking an eyebrow at him as her eye flickers to the flat screen on the wall.

"Please don't tell me you've amused yourself by stealing evidence and watching it."

She gestures to the tape, and his smile grows, even as she becomes more suspicious.

It reminds him of the video tape and although on some women the half scowl half smirk would be wholly unattractive, for Lisbon it works, quite well actually.

"It can't be stealing if it was never logged in." He responds whimsically.

"Jane," she exclaims in exasperation, "you can't just do that."

Yet her voice is waning, and he gets up quickly, pulling the cassette out of the VCR.

"Oh come on, it's not like anyone is going to miss it. Besides, aren't you even a little curious about what you look like on the tape?"

He's approached her by this point, standing in close enough proximity to tap the cassette against her shoulder, a sparkle of mischief in his glance that leaves her hypnotized.

The scowl on her face loosens slightly, lips curving into a smile,

"You're acting like there's something dirty on it,"

He's obviously not expecting such a bold reply, and paired with the playful glint in her eye, it has him clearing his throat and casting his glance elsewhere.

Lisbon seems to take pleasure in her small victory over him and he's about to tease her right back with something equally witty, when she breaks the silence,

"So what were you watching it for?"

Her voice is low, quiet, and for the first time, Jane realizes that they're the only two people on the floor; the only illumination is coming from the solitary desk lamp and the moonlight streaming in through the window.

The mood is oddly intimate, but he doesn't shy away, instead he slips the cassette in his breast pocket, and shrugs, teetering on his heels, his customary pose,

"Oh you know, reminiscing, reliving the good ole' days, seeing if I still have my touch."

Jane says this with a lightness he didn't know he was capable of, and Lisbon raises her eyebrow immediately, the solitary dimple making its presence as she counters him,

"And do you?"

It's meant to be playful, just a part of their banter, but it makes him think, which unfortunately reveals the uncertainty he felt earlier; the vulnerability that made him uncomfortable, made him flinch as he watched himself try to dupe someone else, only to reveal his own insecurities in the process.

Lisbon seems to notice the rapid change in his demeanor and even though it's brief, Jane knows he's ousted himself and is about to backtrack, but her unwavering glance halts him.

For a moment, he flashes back to their brief exchange in her office earlier, when she apologized for her insensitivity. He sees now that she's determined not to repeat her mistake again, that she's more attuned to him than ever, hoping to make up for lack of hindsight before.

Guilt is a powerful force and Lisbon is no stranger to it.

Despite his desire not to revisit the distress he felt then, his resolve weakens as she looks at him with large, compassionate eyes.

A shrill foreign sound breaks his fixation, startling both of them.

Lisbon reacts quickly, hand disappearing into her coat pocket to reveal her Blackberry, the screen flashing rapidly, beeping growing louder.

She frowns as she recognizes the number, a flash of realization, and looks back up at him almost apologetically,

"I gotta take this."

He nods at her to go even though he's deathly curious, and she walks over to her office, unlocking the door, and flicking on the lights.

The conversation is indistinct, but the blinds are half open and he can't help but smile to himself as he sees her open the top left drawer and pull out her badge, opening her clutch and slipping it inside.

He may not have much stability in his life, but there's something to be said for the calm a little certainty brings.

Therefore unlike others, Jane finds Lisbon's predictability, the little bits of knowledge about her that he knows will never change, a much greater source of comfort than anything he's had in the last couple years.

XXX

She feels an inexplicable sense of relief as soon as she locates her badge and puts it in her purse.

It's probably unhealthy to be that pacified by a piece of metal, but she rationalizes that at this point, it's a part of her, a symbol of all her hard work, of everything that she excels at. It's not just a police badge, it's a badge of honor and something that makes her feel that tiny bit more confident.

Something she thought she would need for tonight's plans.

She didn't expect to take the journalist's question so personally, but when he asked her what she did for fun and she found herself at a loss for words, it hit her very abruptly that she just didn't know the last time she actually had _fun._

Sure, she enjoys the occasional case closed pizza and drinks with the team and despite her deepest misgivings, she does find it amusing whenever Jane does a magic trick or reads someone's mind in between cases, but having fun outside of work? Well that's very different and apparently very foreign to her as well.

With the recent turn of events, her hermit status would be justified; however, what unsettles her most is that she can't recall the last time she went out to dinner, saw a movie, or even went for a walk.

After the interview and plenty of rumination on her part, Lisbon was shocked to discover how easily absorbed she was in her job and with the ever present reminder that life is indeed too short, she felt a rude awakening, a spontaneity she couldn't recall ever feeling. It prompted her to call one of her few friends in Sacramento to inquire about her plans for the Friday night.

Lisbon wouldn't have been surprised if Liz didn't even pick up on her, but the ADA, whom Lisbon first met when she was transferred to the CBI, was very pleasant on the phone, even extended her condolences. She also surprised Lisbon by inviting her out for drinks with her friends.

It probably helped that Liz was in the same field of work and didn't take offense at Lisbon's lack of correspondence. The detective found herself getting more and more excited for tonight, even taking the time to scour her closet for clothes she'd bought but never wore, retrieving heels that were far too impractical for work but that stole her breath away when she saw them at a boutique months ago.

Now though, the anticipation has settled, turning into a twisting feeling in her belly as she watches Jane through the blinds in her office. She'd expected to find him here tonight, it wouldn't be the first time, but to catch him watching the tape, vainly concealing the sadness he undoubtedly felt, tugged at her heart in an unexpected way.

It also didn't help that she felt the remnants of guilt from before, when she so blindly inquired about his sour attitude in front of the camera. She felt terrible afterwards and now the feeling is back full force, making her reconsider her plans for tonight, despite how it would appear to her friend.

Damn that man and his sad, magnetic eyes.

"Teresa, where are you?"

The chatter in the background, slightly drowning out Liz's voice, interrupts Lisbon's train of thought, and she immediately feels uncomfortable, regretful.

Maybe she shouldn't skip out on her plans, be selfish for once, let herself have a carefree night.

She's earned it after all.

But one look at Jane, and she knows she won't be able to enjoy herself, not when she knows he's here all alone, painful memories of the past, his only companions.

She doesn't even realize what she's saying until she hears silence on the other end of the line and then a light chuckle, "are you at the office?"

Lisbon sighs heavily, shoulders slumped as she realizes she's been figured out, lame excuses of something coming up not good enough for the lawyer.

"Yeah, I forgot my badge at work, but one of my coworkers is here, and he-…"

"Say no more," Liz interrupts, voice sounding uncharacteristically amused.

It's then that Lisbon realizes her mistake. Jane's pretty infamous at the DA's office; they even have a color coding system so no one gets pummeled with "Jane" cases consecutively. He's also known to be her shadow, which she gets teased about mercilessly, so it's not hard for Liz to make the connection.

"It's not like that," Lisbon mumbles into the phone, now keenly aware of her office door being closed, with Jane within ear shot and always eager to pry into her personal life.

"Hey, you don't have to feel bad about it. His methods of police work might drive the entire DA's office crazy, but we're all in agreement that he's not bad to look at."

At this point, Lisbon feels her cheeks slowly heat up as she sinks into her chair, not even venturing to steal a glance at the small hand mirror she keeps in her drawer for fear of encountering the blush on her face, which would give Jane another reason to tease her in a few minutes.

She doesn't say anything for a moment and then there's rustling in the background, music growing louder as she detects another voice, even further away. Liz tells her to hold on, giving Lisbon a few moments to recuperate, before interrupting her thoughts again,

"Hey listen, my girls are here. I got to go. Don't be a stranger, alright?"

"I won't." Lisbon says quietly, feeling guilty again for breaking plans with the ADA, "how about dinner next week?"

"Sounds great. I'll see you then."

She throws the phone on the desk, resisting the urge to run her fingers through her hair, reminding herself that she took a ridiculous amount of time blow drying and styling her bangs, and for a second she sulks, irritated at her own self sabotage.

She should have just gone.

She almost contemplates doing it, but not a moment too soon, Jane walks into her office, balancing two cups of tea and a few packets of sugar under his chin.

He looks lighter somehow, more jovial and less melancholy than before, and she instantly remembers why she decided not to go.

Lisbon gets up to help him with the tea, shrugging off her pea coat in the process and Jane's eyes momentarily sweep over her, realization followed by a hint of appreciation crossing his features almost imperceptibly.

However, it's enough for Lisbon to feel the heat rise on her face again, and she all of the sudden feels self conscious.

Jane can't help his blatant stare or the remorse that overpowers him. He clears his throat, setting the two identical teacups on an empty part of her desk, before giving her another onceover, settling on her face.

In the light of her office, she looks different; he can see that she's taken more care than usual preparing for her evening.

Her lashes are accentuated by dark mascara, eyelids tinted a dark purple color, and shimmery but pale red lipstick, only highlight the delicate beauty of her face. Her makeup is subtle but breathtaking, and it contrasts nicely with the mauve top she's wearing.

The halter top is demure by many standards, barely exposing any skin, but the curve of her shoulder, the slender length of her bare arms, and the slight indentation of her clavicle are details that send a jolt of warmth through his entire body, for a moment making him forget that he likely ruined her night out.

Jane realizes he's staring when Lisbon clears her throat, hands unconsciously folding over her chest, giving him a quizzical look like only she can, "Jane?"

He blinks, then meets her eye again, looking regretful, "you were going somewhere, weren't you?"

She's surprised initially, but then realizes it's Jane and there's little that can be kept from him, especially when he wants to know, but she hesitates before answering,

"Just drinks with a couple girlfriends, no big deal."

Lisbon feels a little scrutinized under his intense gaze, skin breaking out in goose bumps. Yet she doesn't really want him to see how much his appreciative side glances warmed her heart just a few moments earlier, so she hides it, if only to stave off the blush slowly creeping back up her face.

"But it is." Jane counters, and she's taken aback by the sincerity in his voice. It's so rare that she gets to hear him speak so softly, yet so resolutely, when Red John's not involved.

"It's really nothing. I already made plans with Liz for next week, don't worry about it."

"Oh, Liz from the DA's office? What a charming lady. I really like her."

Lisbon nods, picking up her cup of tea and taking a long sip. It's not too hot, not too cold, just perfect. The liquid warmth travels through her system surprisingly fast, reminding her that she hasn't eaten since lunch.

She looks up a moment later only to find Jane looking pensively at her, teetering on his heels like he always does when he's in thought, a plan undoubtedly forming in his mind, as he taps his chin and looks around, one arm resting on his vest.

Lisbon sees this pose so often, her annoyed reaction is inevitable, and she fixes him with a stare,

"What now?"

"Oh, nothing," the consultant replies innocently, but he doesn't give her a moment of respite, before swiftly coming around the desk and picking up her jacket and purse for her.

She looks at him like he's gone mad, but he wastes no time, grabbing her gently by her elbow and pulling her along, "Jane, what on earth are you-…"

"We're going out." He announces as if it's the most casual thing in the world, but it's not, not at all.

Because he's still looking at her with a certain candor she can't pinpoint and his hand wrapped around her elbow makes her shiver, so there's really nothing commonplace or typical about any of this.

Lisbon can't ignore the jolt of pleasure resonating from his touch any more than she can quell the anticipation bubbling inside at the mere thought of spending the night out with Jane.

She can easily chalk this up to his unpredictability, the wild glint in his eye as he watches her expectedly, but as much as she can pretend for other people, internally Lisbon knows there's a part of her that's a little curious, a bit intrigued about spending time with Jane outside work.

Still, the rational part of her brain is cautious, contemplating if this is a good idea.

Sensing her hesitation, Jane softens his grasp on her elbow and steps a little closer, trying to ignore the tantalizing scent of her perfume as it wafts through the air, "I've already deterred your plans for the night, let me make it up to you?"

He leans in just barely, seeking out her diverted gaze. Lisbon feels herself gravitating towards him, briefly wondering when this went from her desire to comfort a friend, to contemplating letting Patrick Jane of all people take her out.

"C'mon, you know you want to say yes. If not for yourself than do it for vanity. It would be appalling if these beauties didn't see the light of day."

At first, she doesn't know what he's talking about, but then when his eyes travel south and she feels him nudge the side of her foot, Lisbon realizes with somewhat of a wry smile that he's referring to her shoes.

A complete indulgence on her part, she saw them a few months ago in a boutique in San Francisco, and she couldn't just pass by without trying them on. Much to her simultaneous chagrin and excitement, the lace up stilettos fit perfectly, and the more she looks at them now, admiring how well they compliment her outfit, the more Jane's words begin to convince her.

He watches her reaction and can almost pinpoint the exact moment that her resolve breaks.

The smile on his face is unmatched.

"Oh fine."

Lisbon lets out a huff of air and tries to pry her jacket from Jane's hands, but he simply turns her around and guides her arms into the coat, fingers brushing against the halter tie at the back of her neck.

He barely touches her, but she feels the tingle run up and down her body, almost frightened by how easily her body responds to the simplest of caresses. It almost makes her want to flee, but the pleasant weight of his hands on her shoulders keeps her in place, his strong frame radiating heat that seems to seep deep into her bones, despite the many layers of clothing between them.

It makes her feel a little uncomfortable to be at his physical mercy like this and Jane, as always very attuned to her moods, releases her but doesn't move. Instead, he brushes the hair from the nape of her neck and leans in; his breath against her ear is even more lethal to her senses than Jane's touch,

"You won't regret it, I promise."

Lisbon has the urge to smirk in his face, but can't bring herself up to turn around, afraid of what might happen. Instead she just ducks her head, and grabs her purse out of his grasp, trying to avoid his gaze, because she knows if she takes one look at him, sees the bottomless depth of his sea colored eyes again, regret will not be the emotion she'll be feeling.

And that's probably more hazardous to her health than having a night out with a friend.

Or maybe not, considering that friend is Jane.

God, help her.

TBC…


	2. Part II: Sweet Distraction

**Be Still, My Troubled Heart**

Disclaimer: Don't own anything…quote by British author Douglas Adams.

Rating: T

Spoiler: Bleeding Heart

A/N: Huge thanks to **forthecoast **for doing impromptu betaing for me. I appreciate it! So I'm leaving tomorrow and this feels like a parting gift for you guys, haha. Thank you so much to everyone who read and reviewed the first part and I sincerely hope I do not disappoint with this one. Enjoy!

Part II: Sweet Distraction

XXX

"_I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I intended to be."_

XXX

It's not a dive bar, not like she was expecting one anyway, but it's not a posh, pretentious lounge either.

It's somewhere in the middle, and she's pleasantly surprised at the warmth she feels as they step inside. However, she's not really certain if it's the atmosphere or the fact that Jane's hand is poised at the small of her back that is responsible for this foreign feeling.

Jane leads them to two empty stools at the far end of the bar. Lisbon immediately sheds her coat and sits down on the one nearest to the wall, reclining against it as Jane takes his time sliding off his blazer and rolling up his sleeves.

She looks at him with amusement at first, but then can't help noticing the definition of his arms, muscles moving imperceptibly underneath the tanned skin. The realization that she likes what she sees makes her throat a little dry, so she immediately diverts her attention elsewhere, hoping her easily flushed skin doesn't give her away.

Instead, Lisbon notices that despite the soft music playing in the background and the chatter around them, the place is best suited for quiet, intimate interaction. It's somewhere to go with a person one could spend all night talking to, where the conversation is comfortable enough to survive silence. Her stomach sinks a little under the weight of anxiety, but there's a flutter in her chest, a hint of anticipation and hope.

The consultant does nothing without purpose, and if he has chosen to bring her here, that means he's willing to talk and that's a step forward. She's not sure what she interrupted earlier, what was bothering Jane, but the desire to be a friend to him, especially after how she acted earlier, feels stronger now more than ever.

Jane catches her wandering eye as he sits down; his knee brushing against her breaks her concentration. He notices her jolt just a little, and Lisbon is certain he's about to say something to rile her up judging by the bemused glint in his gaze. Thankfully, however, the bartender sidles up to them, saving her from any possible embarrassment.

He lists off the specials and gives them a minute to decide, but Lisbon doesn't even pick up the offered menu, catching Jane's attention by clasping her hands over the bar top and admiring the impressive array of liquor bottles on the other side of the counter.

Jane raises an eyebrow at her over his menu, "aren't you even going to look at menu?"

He gestures towards the laminated booklet, but Lisbon shakes her head, "nah, I'll let you order. This way I can tease you mercilessly if I don't like something, while you can practice your mind reading skills on me."

He leans back, blowing out a puff of air, an almost whistle, "that's a lot of control you're relinquishing there. Are you sure you're not ill?"

Lisbon has the urge to roll her eyes, but just shakes her head again, not missing the way Jane's eyes follow the movement of her hair as it flows around her. A flicker of appreciation, barely detectable, yet it leaves her feeling strangely flattered and even a little confident.

"I'm definitely not ill, but thank you for your concern." She replies sarcastically, "now, humor me. Tell me what you think I'd like."

Jane narrows his eyes at her, but she maintains her playful smirk, never wavering, not even when his expression turns somber for a moment, and she wonders what he's thinking. Then it's gone, replaced by a wolfish grin, his best façade.

"Alright," He says, shutting the menu, "I accept your challenge, Agent Lisbon. Prepare to be amazed."

Lisbon smiles in spite herself and Jane returns it, before leaning over the counter to catch the bartender's attention.

It's then as she surveys the room again that she concludes that she's in deep, deep trouble. She shouldn't be feeling the burst of pride in her chest when she realizes that almost all the women in the bar are capriciously eyeing the man sitting besides her, and he seems to be perfectly oblivious to anyone other than her.

XXX

She's not surprised in the least bit when Jane guesses her favorite drink from the first try.

When the bartender comes back with two low ball glasses, one with amber liquid and one with clear, Jane just smiles at her wickedly, raising his glass of scotch and toasting her.

She doesn't bother asking how he figured it out, but after taking a satisfied sip, Jane tells her anyway,

"Vodka soda. Sophisticated, but unassuming, and definitely to the point."

Lisbon raises an eyebrow at him, savoring the drink under his watchful eye,

"Are you implying that this drink and I share similar qualities?"

Jane pretends to think for a moment, but Lisbon knows him well enough to know that he's had a response ready from the get go and is just toying with her for effect.

True to his form, Jane takes a long sip before replying, "Nah, the drink isn't quite as stubborn."

"Hey! I resent that,"

She retorts, swatting him on the shoulder. A second later, she takes another self-satisfied drink as she watches Jane rub the sore spot on his forearm, frowning dramatically,

"It also doesn't want to cause me bodily harm every chance it gets."

"Oh save me your sob story. Don't tease me and I won't hit you."

Lisbon warns, but Jane immediately spots the playful glint in her eye and the slight curve of her lip, confirming that she's merely teasing him right back.

He wants to tell her that he sees many qualities that are uniquely tied to her, like beauty, grace, loyalty, but selfishly he doesn't want to dampen the mood. Invariably, such a comment would create tension between them, because for as long as he's known her, Lisbon can never take a compliment. She will immediately become skittish and uncomfortable, and he quite likes how openly she's smiling at him now, how her body is half turned towards him so invitingly, as their knees brush together. She's so rarely carefree and relaxed like this that he wants to savor the moment.

So he swallows what he really wants to say, instead cataloging it to the back of his mind, and takes another hefty sip from his glass, before leaning in close enough to smell her tantalizing scent again,

"Well what would be the fun in that, then?"

Thankfully, Lisbon doesn't have time to reply before the bartender arrives with their food because he's certain she would proceed to show him just how much fun it would be to hit him again.

XXX

Some time later, Lisbon excuses herself to the restroom, leaving Jane alone with his thoughts for the first time since she found him in the bullpen, and he finds himself actually smiling as he reflects on the evening so far.

Initially, he felt incredibly guilty for sabotaging her plans for the night, though he was a little surprised that she'd actually taken the journalist's words to heart. But now he's sort of glad he did because, as their night out together has proven thus far, there is no better distraction or better way to improve his mood than spending time with Lisbon.

With her, he can let his guard down, just enough to have easy conversation, interspersed with teasing and banter. Even though they haven't talked about anything substantial, not even touching on the reasons why she seemed to think he was in need of company earlier, Jane finds himself liking the easiness between them.

There really aren't very many people he can enjoy himself with and as he watches Lisbon make her way back from the bathroom, he realizes exactly how valuable she is to him, how important her companionship is.

He also realizes that she looks incredible in purple and it doesn't escape him that he's not the only one who thinks so.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a dark haired man watching Lisbon as she approaches the bar again. A quick once over tells Jane that this man is single, no imprint of a wedding band; he has a good job that lets him dress tastefully and unpretentiously; and he seems extremely laid back. All of these observations deepen the scowl on Jane's face, because he can't detect anything off about Lisbon's admirer, and thus has to try very hard to contain the flicker of jealousy that sparks inside him.

"What's wrong?" Lisbon asks, thigh gliding against his as she slides into her seat.

Jane blinks, then quickly recovers, smiling at her before signaling the bartender for another scotch. Lisbon gives him a slightly worrisome look but he waves her off.

He doesn't answer her, instead looks over her shoulder again, to find the booth the man was occupying with his friends empty, and he feels almost uncomfortable when the feeling of relief washes over him.

He doesn't like thinking about other man ogling Lisbon. It's not that he's not used to it, because he is. But when it happens during cases, Jane is reassured that nothing will come out of it because Lisbon would never let herself break any sort of professional boundaries or rules, regardless of how badly she wants to.

However, when they're off duty, and the opportunity presents itself, the possibilities are endless.

He knows it's irrational to feel this way, especially since with everything that's happened to Lisbon in the last couple months, she deserves a good time, a chance to unwind. More than that, a woman like Lisbon deserves to be loved and appreciated, and even though he knows he can't really do that for her wholeheartedly, at least not yet, selfishly he yearns to be the one to give it to her anyway. He can't help the flutter of warmth in his chest when she places a soft hand on his arm and looks at him concernedly,

"So are you ever going to tell me what's bothering you or do you plan to get me drunk enough that I don't remember?"

Though the image of Lisbon completely without inhibitions is tempting, Jane pretends to be offended at her suggestion, "I'm shocked that you would think so little of me. My intentions tonight have been nothing but pure."

He doesn't miss the smirk on her face as she rolls her eyes and takes a sip, "Yeah right. Now c'mon, don't make me confiscate the tape and book you for tampering."

Surprisingly for her diminutive stature, Lisbon holds her liquor remarkably well, but when she waves a finger at him warningly, Jane is momentarily sidetracked by the light flush on her skin and the sparkle in her green gaze. The dim lighting casts a pleasant glow around her, making her appear warm and inviting. Jane can't discern if the alcohol is having an affect on him as well, but finds himself wanting to tell her everything he feels, divulge all his insecurities, trust her with them.

He looks into the bottom of his glass, ocher liquid swirling around the ice cubes, as he speaks,

"Do you ever feel like you're just standing on the outside? Not really enjoying life, but simply existing?"

Jane ventures a glance at Lisbon, but if she seems at all taken aback by his candor, she hides it extremely well because all he sees in her eyes is compassion and a flicker of, dare he say, understanding.

She purses her lips for a moment, catching the drops of precipitation on her glass with her finger, before looking back at him, "sometimes, but I think everyone feels like that at one point or another."

Jane shrugs, bringing the lowball to his lips, "it's a pity really, life should be savored, treasured."

It's weird for Lisbon to hear him speak this way, but she conceals it well, choosing instead to focus on the slight bit of satisfaction she feels. Despite the oddity of it, Jane's confession reminds her that even in his darkest hour, even when he was so adamant about making sure she knew he would sacrifice himself for Red John, she believed otherwise. She believed that he would choose life, and even though it worries her that he's thinking such morbid thoughts, she can't contain the seed of hope that sprouts at his words and the joy she feels at knowing that her faith in him is justified.

"Is that why you were watching the tape?"

It's clear by the uncertainty in her voice that she's trying to make the connection, and Jane can't help but feel a twinge of appreciation at her efforts. There's no way he can keep anything hidden from her now and it's rather ironic that the self proclaimed hypnotist feels himself so deeply drawn in by someone who despises the very idea of mind manipulation.

"I guess I was just intrigued by the opportunity. It's been so long since I've been on camera; I kind of wanted to see what others see, I suppose."

He looks straight ahead, feeling unusually uncomfortable about divulging even that little tad bit of information. Yet, the light pressure on his arm reminds him that Lisbon hasn't removed her hand from him and that's a very telling sign for the brunette so he forces himself to turn his body back towards her, willing himself to relax.

It's not hard to do when he encounters soft green eyes staring back at him, calm seeping in past his rigid defenses,

"And…" Lisbon's voice trails off, trying to coax a response out of him, though not as insistent as she is usually, suggesting that she understands how impossibly difficult it is for him to be that honest, even with her.

Jane exhales, deflating slightly in his chair, before frowning over the rim of his glass at her, "I look old."

Despite the seriousness of their talk, Lisbon can't help the burst of incredulous laughter that escapes as Jane looks at her like a sulking child, and she almost feels bad when surprise flashes across his features, but she can't help it.

God, this man can be so oblivious when it comes to himself.

"It's not funny," He adds petulantly, still looking slightly miffed by her reaction.

"Yeah it kind of is." She counters, "Considering half the women in this room are dying to trade places with me."

Jane perks up considerably, letting out a thoughtful "hmm", before taking a sudden interest in his surroundings, and though Lisbon feels just a hint of jealousy, the twinkle in his eye suggests that he's merely playing around. Then, something shiny catches her eye and Lisbon realizes that if his previous lack of attention to the occupants of the bar doesn't reveal his utter lack of interest in other women, then the wedding band certainly does.

Unexpectedly, the jealousy morphs into something else entirely, an emotion she can't identify but that suspiciously feels like disappointment, and Lisbon finds herself trying to shove these thoughts to the back of her mind.

She probably doesn't do a very good job, because when she meets Jane's eye again, he looks a little concerned, but there's something else beneath his look, an intensity she rarely sees.

It's very brief, just a flash, but all of the sudden she feels like he's read her thoughts and shifts uncomfortably in her chair, willing the heat that's undoubtedly rising on her skin to go away.

Jane senses her discomfort and tries to break the tension,

"Why the frown, Lisbon? Upset to realize other woman want me?"

He succeeds.

The snort that escapes is completely inconsistent with the graceful and ladylike image she projects but that's what makes Jane grin so widely, because she has let her guard down somewhat, and there's nothing more pleasing to him than that revelation.

Lisbon rolls her eyes, unable to conceal her smirk as she finishes off her drink, "oh yeah, you know me. I'm just so hot for you. You know honestly, I don't know how you can feel even a little self-conscious with an ego that big."

"Oh, no need to get defensive, woman. We both know I only have eyes for you."

He leans over when he says this, hand falling on her wrist in what he expects to be an innocent squeeze, but he doesn't anticipate the inviting heat of her skin or the way her pulse escalates slightly under his touch when he speaks.

Jane also can't deny the little bit of truth in his statement and his already frayed heart chips a little more when Lisbon's eyes unconsciously dart to his wedding band.

He carefully moves his hand away, and Lisbon lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

Suddenly, the air between them is filled with tension, and she bites her lip, unsure of what to do.

She wonders how it's possible for things to change so quickly between them, but figures when there are so many underlying feelings, it can't be easy to take certain jokes lightly.

However, this isn't about them together as an entity. She reminds herself that her aim for the evening was to be a friend, provide some source of comfort to the man who rarely opens up to others, and no matter how ridiculous his words sound to her, Lisbon realizes she needs to make him understand that he can talk to her, that he can count on her to be there, even just as a distraction.

The irony that throughout their relationship it's always been Jane who has tried to prove that she could trust and rely on him, doesn't elude Lisbon, but she ignores it. Instead, she gets off the barstool and grabs her jacket,

"Lisbon uhh, where are you going?"

Jane asks, slightly surprised, but she just fixes him with a pointed stare, "I don't recall you telling me where we were going tonight, so don't expect me to tell you either."

She has her hands on her hips and she's looking at him with a raised eyebrow and pursed lips, so very reminiscent of how she is at work, and Jane finds himself liking it.

He doesn't hesitate in throwing down a few bills to cover their tab and following her out of restaurant.

It's only when they make it outside that Jane remembers that he drove them to the bar, and he already dreads Lisbon's next question before she turns around to him, extending her hand and smiling impishly,

"Keys please."

He's not sure why he does it, maybe it's because actually he can't predict her next move. Maybe it's because she looks so unbelievably attractive with such a devious glint in her eye, or maybe he just likes the way he feels when she's smiling like that.

Whatever the reason, Jane drops the keys into her open palm without much of a fight, for the first time this evening wondering what the hell he's getting into.

XXX

There's something particularly alluring about watching Lisbon handle his precious Citroën with such expertise and effortlessness, that Jane doesn't even notice when they reach their destination because he's trying to come up with possible ways of getting Lisbon to drive his car more often.

She interrupts his scheming by cutting the engine and dropping the keys in his lap before announcing that they've arrived and slipping out of the car.

That's when he looks ahead and realizes with some measure of confusion where they are.

He gets out, locking the car before walking up to Lisbon, who stands leaning on the hood, waiting for him.

"A bowling alley?"

He doesn't mean for it to come out as harshly as it does, but he's genuinely flabbergasted by her decision and desperately wants to know why they're here, which causes his speech to come out rough and uncontrolled.

Lisbon seems to have mistaken his sharp tone for disapproval, because the flash of hurt that crosses her gaze doesn't escape him, neither does the sudden hunch of her shoulder as she wraps her arms around her torso, staring straight ahead,

"You said you felt old, and if there's one place where I always feel young, regardless of my age, it's definitely a bowling alley."

She halts for a moment, brushing her bangs from her face, before finally looking at him, "I thought it was a good idea, but we don't have to-…"

"No, I want to. I didn't mean to sound rude. You just genuinely surprised me and you know how rarely that happens."

There's a long stretch of silence before Lisbon's expression finally relaxes, giving way to the softness of her face. Jane is very much relieved when he notices the solitary dimple on her cheek, evidence of a smile,

"You must be off your game then." She teases and he beams at her, unable to contain the feeling of relief that he didn't mess this up.

The consideration in her action makes his heart swell in a foreign way, instilling within him hope, possibility, and most of all appreciation.

All of the sudden, for the second time tonight, he's overcome with gratitude for this woman, for her unwavering support, loyalty, and desire to be there for him, even though he's only superficially confided in her.

Even though he makes her job twice as stressful, even though he causes her pain indirectly through his obsession with a serial killer, even though he makes others question her credibility and probably makes her question her own sanity.

Despite all that, she's still here.

Still standing next to him, still willing to take responsibility for him, and most importantly still willing to share a bit of herself with him in hopes that he'll do the same.

The mix of emotion in him is indescribable. He can't decipher its complexity but knows that for the longest time, he thought he was numb, impervious to any real feelings, but whatever is brewing in his chest right now, challenges that notion, reminding him that he's just as capable of feeling as ever.

The thought not only makes him smile, but also makes him breach the proximity between them, and slide his arms unexpectedly around Lisbon, catching them both off guard with his sudden desire to show her how thankful he is, something he can't articulate verbally.

At first she's rigid in his arms, but soon relaxes, even lets herself hug him back, even though she's confused as hell.

After a second though, she no longer allows her thoughts to distract her. Instead, she takes a moment to indulge in the feel of his warm, strong arms around her, the hardness and heat from his body, radiating a level of protection and security that she hasn't experienced in years.

She lets her guard down just a little, and shock reverberates through her body when she feels the softest brush of lips against her cheek as Jane pulls back.

The tingle is back, generating heat, anticipation, and a whole slew of sensations she hasn't felt in far too long.

It's her turn to look at him with surprise coloring her emerald gaze, but Jane just smiles wistfully at her, swiping her bangs from her face like he's been dying to ever since she changed her hair months ago.

At first, Lisbon can't read his expression, but as he squeezes her shoulder before stepping away completely, she understands that this is his way of saying thank you and her uncertainty melts away.

She knows that they both have trust issues, especially with each other, but something has shifted between them tonight. It's difficult for Jane to open up, to admit that he might need someone, but the look he gives her says it all. Though she's still a little disappointed that he hasn't told her what's truly bothering him about the tape, this won't be the last conversation they have and the night is still young.

"Shall we?"

Feeling newly optimistic, Lisbon breaks the silence, gesturing towards the entrance of the bowling alley.

Jane doesn't say anything, just nods, before following her in.

It's only later on, when Lisbon rolls a strike and lets out an uncharacteristic squeal while beaming at him with a childlike essence he seldom witnesses, that Jane allows himself to indulge in the fantasy of a possible future with her, seeing her smile like this more often, with him as the reason behind her happiness rather than her frustration.

And what surprises him most about the daydream is that it's devoid of pain, of guilt, but feels incredibly natural to him.

He's not wondering what his wife would think of this, isn't ashamed picturing his little girl, instead he feels elated, optimistic, intoxicated by the desire to make his thoughts a reality.

That's the moment when everything clicks into place and he revels in the fact that somehow this spitfire of a woman managed to unknowingly slip past his defenses and he finds himself no longer standing on the outside.

Instead, when she walks up to him, playfully challenging him to beat her, he realizes that he may not be all the way in just yet, but at least he's got his foot in the door, and he really shouldn't be surprised that Lisbon was the key all along.


End file.
